These Conversations
by theywerentthere
Summary: AU. Sian enters Sophie's life by appearing drunk in her doorstep at the age of ten. The truth is that I have been reading stories for a while now, realized they stopped and decided to try it out.
1. Chapter 1

I don't think I ever had a strangest relationship than the one I have with Sian Powers. Since we met, things were never really normal in any way. Let's see, how can I rephrase that? I believe in tons of shades of gray instead of simple black and white, so things can be of a thousand different ways to me and come in all shapes and forms… But this was simply plain weird.

The first time I laid eyes on her, it was a Christmas Night. It wasn't near a Christmas tree though, and she didn't come to have dinner with my family. At least those are the regular ways in which I can imagine meeting someone in that particular day. But she didn't even know my family, and at that point I didn't even know if she liked trees. What I do know is that at four o'clock in the morning I heard a noise. It was some sort of singing, not even a loud shocking singing like Rosie would have though. Sometimes when she thought no one was hearing, she went to the living room and played on the tv the last concert by the Spice Girls and sang and danced to the songs. She was sad that they had separated, wasn't even ashamed to admit it and the day she found out she cried like never before. Anyway, the noise came from downstairs so I went down and then I approached the front door. There was the noise, a lot louder. The front door in my house has a window on each side, not a big one and it doesn't show a clear image of who is on the other side but a blurry one. I think it is simply to let the light in but it would be a lot more useful if you could see who is on the other side, especially now. All that I could see was that the was indeed someone moving from one side to the other. I could have been scared but the shadow was my size, at the time I was ten and not very tall at all, so there was either a midget there or a lost pony. At least that's what my calculations told me. And then suddenly there was a thud. A loud one. I didn't see the shadow moving anymore. In fact, I didn't see the shadow at all.

I waited for a couple of minutes for it to resurface. But it didn't. There was no noise at all anymore. I didn't exactly feel threatened from the very beginning and now even less. The pony must have fallen asleep. So I opened the door and there was no pony. Which was awful because I had specifically asked Santa for one, and even if Rosie already ruined the whole Santa story years ago, I still thought he could come sometime. I mean between believing in Santa or believing in Rosie which one would you go for? I choose Santa, always.

What was there was something else. A girl. Blonde one. With puffy eyes. They were closed, she seemed to be asleep. And she held a bottle of whisky in her right hand. Wait, what? She appeared to be my age, even a lot more adorable than me. But this couldn't be right. What was a ten year old girl doing in my porche, unconscious and with a bottle of whisky? Of course I wasn't able to process it all, I was young after all. So I coped the only way I knew how to. I screamed for dear life.

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!", now that I think about it I could have done something else. My dad came running down the stairs, so did my mom and Rosie, all looking worried sick and didn't take as much time as I did to find that the noise came from the door but apparently my shouting did only reflect one source. They weren't the only ones who came. Slowly but surely, all the doors in the street started getting open one by one, with someone peering outside. If it hadn't been such a situation it had been pretty funny to see. When the other three members of my family came to meet me they looked at me and instantly at the body in our porch. My dad had no better idea than to ask "Sophie, love, who is that girl?", I guess the fact that I wasn't exactly near her and I had shouted didn't tell him much. I just shrugged, couldn't find the words really. I was still shocked. He reacted quickly and went to her. So did other people from the street and my mom. Rosie stayed by my side, holding me.

After that I don't really recall much from that night. There was a lot of screaming from everyone, rapid moves. I remember her dad coming at some point and looking completely shocked and hurt to see her like that. We didn't know him and he didn't exactly look a lot like her but the expression he had said it all. He held her and hurried to the hospital. My dad and some others helped and they took her.

Some days later we found out that she was alright, she had been drinking and at such a young age there was no way things could end up other than in the hospital. People congratulated me for shouting, I didn't understand. That was the day I met Sian.

We didn't talk though. Her dad came and thanked me for "reacting in time", that was the term he used with my dad and with me, he told me I had been "a great girl and that I should meet Sian". She had only come back to his place when he came by our house. So he was on his own thanking. He then started some sort of friendship with my dad. They weren't exactly close, but they respected each other and Mr Powers had a certain fondness towards him. I guess because he never hesitated to go to the hospital with him, and he had gone anyway if Mr Powers hadn't appeared. He would make Sian be alright again. He was always a great guy, and a great dad. And apparently so was Vinnie. That was Mr Powers name. He insisted on me calling him that, told me that he would be there if anything and to count on him.

We learnt that they came from Southport, a place not far from Weatherfield. And that it was only him and Sian here now, his wife still lived in Southport. I couldn't really understand that part. And somehow my dad knew it, when Vinnie was gone he told without me even asking that sometimes people need time on their own to sort stuff out. I couldn't understand how Sian's mom could be without her though, I mean my mom and dad are always with me and even when they go on holidays if more than one day goes by they freak out. It actually happened once. And my dad then asked me how did I know that Sian's mom wasn't freaking out? He then explained that people are different and that he was confused himself most of the time, and that it was better that I didn't understand. Of course that only confused me more but well.. parents, who gets them.

Nobody knew much about the Powers, I mean we knew what Vinnie told us and then my dad saw him often so he knew other things but he wasn't exactly an open guy in the sense that he didn't go telling stuff to people about others. He kept his business and the business of others that decided to rely him to himself. Which was great, but the rest of the street had no idea who Vinnie Powers or Sian was. They just knew from that night that she was "the drunken girl", that's how they called her and the story was in everyone's memory. Forever probably. Loads of things happened since then but somehow they all still remembered that. And I felt awful about it. I thought that if I hadn't shouted, then people wouldn't have come out of their houses and found out. But it was just the way I reacted at the time, I can't change that.

I didn't see her again for a while. Until one day we were with Rosie at the corner shop buying some things mom and dad wanted and as we looked through the shelves, she entered. It was clear she wasn't from here. In Weatherfield, we all know each other. It's a small town, so we are always looking to our sides to see who we have to say hi next. But she didn't she looked up front, minding her own business. Not really curious about the rest. She went straight to the counter, looked for some sweets and put some notes on the table. Sunita, a really nice woman who was the owner of the corner shop, smiled at her. "Who are you from, love?" it's strange but here people don't ask who you are, but who you are from. Like who your family is, which is weird and also not really up to anybody. I mean, if you want to meet someone, you introduce yourself. It was always as simple as that to me. That is why that questioned seemed a bit nosy. And just as if her thoughts were the same she looked up at Sunita and told her, "Nobody's. I'm my own person". It was such a mature and witty response that Sunita just laughed, and all I could think with Rosie was that if Dev had asked the same and that had been the response, then the story would have ended in an entirely different way. With that she left. Grabbed her sweets and got back to her house, which was almost in front of the shop. And three houses away from mine.

I don't think it's necessary to say that after that day, Rosie gained an instance fondness for Sian. She thought she was different, not a Weatherfield person at all and that seemed more chic in Rosie's eyes. She even went as far as saying that Sian and her actions were totally off the hook and she liked that "crazy girl". I didn't think Sian was crazy at all, I just think she was herself. And then Rosie suggested that I should become friends with Sian, that I could rub up some of her craziness and then maybe I could hang out more with Rosie. Needless to say, that only drew me further to wanting to know Sian.

Time went by, and things continued. Suddenly we were twelve and another story was allotted to Sian. Apparently what happened was that Ryan, a boy from the street was smitten by Sian. Saw her through the street, at school and one day he decided to pluck up some courage and go to her house. He had a good idea actually. Turns out Sian likes reading and every afternoon she seats out of her house on a chair and simply reads there for hours. So, he took the opportunity one of these afternoons when he knew his dad was probably in the house but whatever, she was sitting there alone so it was then or never and went to her. He said something like "I think you are beautiful like a butterfly" or something like that. The story that goes around the street says that anyway. And she got up from her seat, left her book on the chair, approached him and suddenly kicked him full speed in his balls. Then she went inside and closed the door after her. He was suffering, fell to the ground and gave a loud whimper, sounded like a cat dying or something. After a while, or so it is said, Vinnie came out of the house, saw him and walked him back to his house. More like carried him, seems like Sian had truly invested a lot of strength in that kick. It wouldn't be until fours after that, which anyone would remotely pluck up courage again to ask her out.

Time went by again and things continued, once again. It wasn't until some months later that I plucked up the courage to come to her house. Not to ask her out, obviously. But to do something else. Turns out I had this walkie-talkies in my house. For a couple of years now. And I had never been able to use them. Rosie found them lame, and my parents weren't exactly a choice. I loved them to bits but that would be just boring. I had always imagined myself in this secret operation where I deactivated a bomb or something. And it included walkie- talkies and over! Over! Kind of talks. That's why my dad bought them for me in the first place. But as time went by, I realized that would never happened. First because a bomb in Weatherfield was weird and also because, I don't know after a while, my fascination simply passed. But I still had them, and I had never been able to use them. Simply having someone to talk to on them, or at least to see if they worked, would be nice. And Chesney lived not so near. They had a range of 100 metres, so it wasn't easy. Had to find someone who would be maximum, one block away. And after a lot of analyzing and realizing that there weren't many other kids living in the street, my mind wandered and landed on Sian. Of course! How could I not think about it before! It all made sense now. Although, I had never spoken to her, so it could be weird. But if she were as crazy as Rosie thought she was, she wouldn't be at all surprised by my offer. So I went for it.

Applied the same technique that Ryan did and went when she was reading outside. I did put some socks in my vital part just in case. It did form a lump and it looked strange, me being a girl. But whatever, I preferred to look like a hybrid of some sort than to be kept without a mother's day one day. I waited in the stairs for her to look down to me, but she didn't. Was too engrossed with the book. So I retorted to another clever technique to call her attention.

"umm, Sian?", she looked towards me and she had a poker face on, couldn't tell if she was okay with me being there or not. But as she didn't get up and kicked my non-existent balls, I took it as a good sign and continued. "I was wondering.. you see, I have this walkie-talkies and I thought you might want one?" That was the weirdest question I could have made but to be fair, she was intimidating. And her remaining of the poker face wasn't helping. So again, I did a totally smart move. I left the walkie-talkie on the stairs and ran back to my place, closing the door behind me.


	2. Chapter 2

I wish I could say that things became easier from there. That on the first night that walkie-talkie was delivered, she talked to me and we became friends instantly. But things are not really that simple. If they were, we would probably forget the actual happening of things pretty soon, I suppose. I mean, it wasn't hard to achieve from the very start. So, why should it remain in my memory for longer? Memory does not work like that either, there's no point in dwelling in it.

Anyway, we went to school together. We just didn't talk. Ever since she got here, we actually even went to the same classes. I guess I never mentioned it before because we didn't exactly talk or were part of each other's radar in any sort of way. She was just a stranger's face and I suppose I was one in my own account, as well.

The problem is that since I gave her that thing, I couldn't help but notice her. On the first day after I dropped it at her house, I looked at her. Try to gauge for any reaction in particular. To see if she even looked at me, and thought I had been a weirdo or something. But nothing really changed. She kept busy in her own way, and I did too.

I started thinking it might have been a waste. To give half of my present to a person who wouldn't lay a hand on it. It would stand there and be useless like it had been up to the moment. It almost made me sad. The saddest part, though, was that I could have done something very simple, like walk up to her and tell her to give it back. But I didn't. I couldn't. I don't know why, but I found her intimidating and I couldn't change that. I could have tried to change myself, that probably would have been easier.

Then, one day, we were paired up to do a class work on marriage. Or more like the apparent digression of marriages now a days. We had to discuss it between ourselves and then, discuss it with the class. Seemed simple enough. Except my mate for the discussion was Sian. And if I couldn't talk to her, how would I be able to discuss? It worked more as a rhetorical question.

She didn't seem to be so much better at it than me. Just remained quiet by my side. It was getting uncomfortable. Very much, indeed. Even the teacher looked at us in confusion. It was understandable. I mean, everyone talking animatedly in every seat and then two who look up front without saying anything. She didn't intervene, though. I guess it is one of those ages where adults let kids be kids and work out their differences. Learn the right ways to treat someone on their own. And if you get it very wrong and do something awful, then maybe then intervene. It is kind of a backwards way of thinking, but actually pretty accurate. We make our own decisions, after all. It wasn't until almost the end of "discussing time" that Sian in a low voice and changing her look from the front to downwards, said something along the lines of:

"I think it is right. People shouldn't get married."

And then discussion time was over. It was short, but I wish I could explain how much emotion that phrase conveyed. She said it in a way that made all the silent time a preparation to say it. Like it broke her heart. That phrase, that discussion. Even marriage, especially marriage. And it's strange. It reminded me of the time she appeared in my doorstep drunk and I couldn't understand it. That I knew something was wrong, but I couldn't go further than that. And now, I just knew it was wrong that a 12-year-old girl wouldn't believe in marriage. It's that age where we believe in the forever love, prince charming and whatever. The age where everything starts being possible. So, to cut out the possibilities is simply wrong.

My mind remained in those words for the rest of the class.

When I got home, I still couldn't forget it.

When I watched an old Spice Girls concert with Rosie, I still couldn't forget it. And Melanie C was totally making that stage her bitch, so it was actually entertaining.

When I had dinner and, my dad and mom talked animatedly and changed amused glances as we all talked; I most of all couldn't forget it.

So, when I got to my room, I grabbed the walkie-talkie and after three glasses of water and considering that my voice could be heard be enough, I decided to talk.

"Hello?"

I actually pushed the radio for interference button several times to call her attention. And granted, it was the fun part of using a walkie-talkie, so I might have enjoyed it a bit much. No answer came, though. I thought it was easier that way. I could talk and it would be giving my opinion, finally. Not needing to worry about getting intimidated.

"I think, I think marriages are good. And it's a shame people don't do it so often. I mean, I think my parents are glad they did it."

It wasn't much of a statement, really. But it was something. So, it made me feel better. I went to bed without remorse, and waiting to be greeted by chipping birds in the morning.


End file.
